Chapter 247
Chapter 247:
“I am going to pull her out of Cole’s swamp with clean hands,” he said. “The day she holds that final divorce decree is the day I will introduce myself to her as a man, not a lawyer p>
Sloane raised both hands in surrender.
“All right,” she said, nodding slowly. “I understand. You’re playing the long game.” She took a sip of her iced coffee, her expression turning serious. “But you need to watch your back. Crawford Love is circling her like a shark p>
Easton let out a short, dark scoff.
“Crawford’s methods are brutally effective, but he is fundamentally wired to control everything around him,” he said, his voice turning precise and deliberate. “He will gladly clear every obstacle from June’s path, but in the end, he simply wants to possess her — to lock her away in his vault. He has no real concept of protecting her independence p>
The red emergency light on Easton’s multi-line phone suddenly began flashing.
He hit the speaker button.
“Mr. Hahn,” his paralegal said, breathless with adrenaline, “the New York Supreme Court just approved the filing. The process server is en route to Compton Tower with the summons right now p>
Easton’s eyes darkened instantly.
“Cut off all external PR lines,” he ordered, his voice crisp and rapid. “Prepare the entire floor for the legal response from the Compton team p>
He ended the call and adjusted his silk tie, his posture radiating the focused, predatory energy of a man who had been waiting a long time for this moment.
R𝗲𝘢𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝘁𝗵𝗈𝘶𝗍 𝘪𝘯𝗍e𝘳𝘳𝗎p𝘁𝗶о𝗇𝘀 о𝘯
Sloane let out a low whistle. “The fallout from this is going to be absolute chaos p>
“I have been waiting for this day for a very long time,” Easton said quietly.
He picked up the duplicate copy of the divorce petition — red court stamp intact — carried it to his wall safe, and locked it inside. He stood for a moment with his hand resting on the cold steel door, knowing exactly what the document within represented.
It was a precisely targeted strike. And its ultimate destination was Cole Compton’s heart.
The atmosphere inside the top-floor executive office of Compton Tower was suffocatingly heavy, the air thick enough to drown in.
Cole sat behind his massive ebony desk looking like a walking corpse. His eyes were sunken into deep, dark hollows, a thick layer of stubble shadowing his jaw. He hadn’t slept a single second since June had left him kneeling on the hospital floor.
Dead men don’t get second chances.
Her words played on an endless, torturous loop inside his skull.
A heavy knock echoed through the room. Davis, Chief Legal Counsel of the Compton Group, pushed the door open, visibly sweating. He crossed to the desk with a trembling hand extended, holding a thick manila envelope stamped with the seal of the New York Supreme Court in glaring red ink.
“Sir,” Davis said, his voice cracking. “A court process server delivered this to the lobby ten minutes ago p>
Cole’s right eyelid twitched. A wave of dread slammed into his stomach. He snatched the envelope and tore it open.
A dense stack of legal documents slid out onto the polished wood.
A petition for a unilateral, forced divorce.